Sentiment
by Gater101
Summary: OneShot. In a time filled with quiet moments, he enjoyed these ones the most.


Title: Sentiment  
Summary: In a time filled with quiet moments, he enjoyed these ones the most.  
Characters: John, Teyla  
Pairing: John/Teyla, Teyla/Kanan.  
Rating: K  
Spoilers: Season 4

There were a lot of things John Sheppard had become used to during his lengthy stay in the city of the Ancients. Before, the thought of machinery that responded to thought would have been absurd; the idea of him controlling a flying city from a chair; the idea that Vampire like creatures were in actual fact very real; the idea that he could lose so many people under his command, so many friends... All of those things he'd come to expect and although it hurt ad although it freaked him out, he was always able to come to terms with it. But seeing Teyla, her petite frame heavy with pregnancy, highlighted against rays from the milky moons as she rested on a balcony of Atlantis was something he didn't think he'd ever get used to.

On his silent midnight vigils of the city, he rarely found anything to report. They were quiet and peaceful and the long walk around the many levels of the control tower always had the desired effect of tiring him out so that when he returned to his room, he'd be able to slide in between his covers, close his eyes and drift into slumber. Occasionally, he came across someone who wanted to show him something and a few times he'd come across members of his team sitting by themselves but he'd continue on, knowing that his presence was not what they expected or wanted.

Yet, he found himself wondering to himself if he should go out to Teyla. The nights were always cool and she had no coat or shawl on like she usually had on her own midnight vigils; he couldn't help but worry. Her head was tilted up to the sky and although he couldn't make out her features, he could imagine that her eyes were closed. He took a step towards the doors but halted, taking a step back before they could swish open. She looked content enough without him intruding. Besides, she might be waiting for Kanan. He looked at his watch and saw that it was well past midnight. Maybe she wanted to be alone.

Resolved, he nodded to himself but before he could make a move away from his position her head lowered and her she turned, looking through the windows into the city. John could see her smile in the diaphanous glow; it was welcoming, yet understanding. She was giving him the choice to walk away.

As he stepped out onto the balcony, the cool air drifted past his layers of clothing and caressed his warm skin. The shiver was instantaneous. He stood a step or two behind her but gripped the railing with his hands and breathed in the cool salty air. From their vantage point he could see two piers of the city, could hear the water breaking against the edges surrounding him. It was a comforting sound.

He turned his head in her direction after a few minutes of silence and found that her eyes were once again closed. He took a moment to look over her body. She looked ready to burst any moment and he wasn't the only one that noticed it; the whole city seemed to be counting the hours until she was whisked into the infirmary to give birth. It was as if the city itself knew as there seemed to be an air of tranquil excitement oozing from the walls, captivating the members of the expedition.

The past weeks had been uneventful and although John was grateful for some time off, he was beginning to feel restlessness settle in. He wasn't used to having a moment to think in the Pegasus galaxy – just another one of those things that had become a part of his everyday life – and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Bur still, in a time filled with quiet moments, he enjoyed these ones the most.

"He has been restless." John swept his gaze back to her face at her words. She looked tired, he noted, now that her eyes were open. Her hand drifted down to her stomach and John's eyes followed the unconscious gesture.

"He?" She nodded and John couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. "You didn't tell me."

She shook her head and smiled at him sadly.

"I told no one." John nodded in comprehension. He understood. "I have not yet named him." John frowned at that. With Doran, her first child, she'd chosen the name for him almost as soon as she'd told them she was pregnant. "No name I choose feels appropriate."

John reached out and touched the back of her hand with his index finger. He found he'd been doing that a lot, lately. Teyla was not a person who craved contact – hell, neither was he – but it seemed that when they were together, touches flowed like nature as though each was assuring themselves that the other was there because when they were together, alone, they felt they were at their most vulnerable. And John didn't mind that, not really.

"It'll come to you when you see him," he murmured encouragingly, withdrawing his touch. He turned back to the view and watched as the stars twinkled in and out of focus behind thin clouds. He knew he couldn't push Teyla to talk; he never had.

"I feel..." She trailed off and John turned towards her slightly but did not intrude on her personal space. He could see the struggle on her face; saw her jaw working around the words that were stuck on a lump in her throat. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her again; he knew she didn't need that. Instead, he turned his eyes back to the horizon, lowered his lids and waited on her continuing. "I feel that by being excited about this child... Because it is so soon after Doran..." John closed his eyes and felt her pain wash through him, tingling his every nerve end. He pushed his own pain away. "I feel like I am forgetting him, that I am... _belittling _what he meant to me and I..."

The final words caught in her throat and he heard the sob take hold as her hand rose to cover her face. He covered her shoulder with his hand and she folded into him easily, and he wrapped his arms around her body. Her side was pressed against his torso so that John could feel the little one's restless moves, and she turned her face into his chest. As his own pain for her took over him, John felt so perfectly in tune with her that it almost scared him. The sigh that escaped his lips was heavier than he'd intended it to be.

"You are _not _forgetting him at all. You know you're not. I know that every time you look at this little guy..." He had only meant it as a fleeting gesture but his hand came to rest against her swollen stomach. "You'll remember Doran. Having another child won't diminish your love for him. Sure, it'll be hard – really hard – for a few months after he's born but Teyla... you can't resent your new kid because you want to cling to the memory of your first."

Her sniffs paused for second before she tugged him closer to him, bunching his shirt up in her fists. To be honest, he was surprised by his own speech so he could only imagine the impact it would have on anyone else; he only hoped that none of his marines had been around the hear it.

"But what if I..."

Clarity came to him then, like the proverbial light bulb in a darkened room and he instantly interrupted her, thrusting her body away from him and gripping her tightly by the two arms, almost shaking her.

"Teyla, _no._We've talked about this." He didn't want to think so much about _when _they'd talked about it but they had. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't kill Doran." He saw her eyes well up with tears again and she tried to look away. He gripped her chin between his thumb and fore finger, commanding her to look at him. "It wasn't your fault."

"If only I had been more careful," she whispered with more than a hint of self-accusation in her tone.

"You what? What would have happened? These things happen. He went to sleep, Teyla, like he'd done for months before. Tell me, what could you have done differently?"

She ripped herself from his grasp and turned away from him, waddling back and forth as her hands came up to tug at the strands of her hair around her face.

"I shouldn't have gone to sleep!" She yelled angrily and spun towards him, anger burning through her eyes.

John felt incredulous anger build up within his own body and he too lifted his hands to the side of his face and made silent gestures towards her, hoping like he normally did that the words would simply pour out. They didn't and they were both silent, staring at one another across metres of empty air. He dropped his hands and she relaxed her stance but neither let go of the others eyes.

"I'm not having this conversation again." She raised an eyebrow at him and he tilted his head, daring her to respond. She didn't. "One day, you're going to realise that I'm right."

She only stared at him and John began to feel uncomfortable. He shifted from one foot to the other until she turned away from him, gathering herself together near the railing. He didn't move towards her, or speak, or even dare breathe for fear that she may turn around and unleash her hormones upon him. It wasn't until he heard her sigh that he allowed himself to relax. He ran a hand across his face and peered at her through his fingers as she raised a hand to the small of her back.

"Sore back?"

He saw her nod and he moved closer to her, instinct taking over. He hovered behind her, his hands lingering by his sides and he watched the horizon melt into the ocean.

"Like I said, he has been very restless tonight."

As his next words passed his lips, his fingers reached out and replaced her own, rubbing in soothing circles around the dimples that he knew were there at the base of her spine.

"I think he's getting ready to pop out."

He heard her small laugh and he raised his hands to her shoulders, urging her to sit down. After she'd slid her legs through the gap in the rails (he had to laugh, she was still about a foot away from the edge because of how big she was), he slid down behind her, his legs on either side of her body, careful to avoid bumping her with his cast, his hands returned to their position. He saw her head lull forward and he smiled. His eyes trained on the horizon, his fingers working from instinct, and he let his mind wander. The sea beneath them swished against itself, the city seeped tranquillity and John could feel restfulness settle into his shoulders.

He sat there long after his fingers had stopped soothing her back, with his arms around her torso, resting on either side of her pregnant body. His palms were flat against the swollen mound and he rubbed it occasionally, his fingers strumming a quiet tune of reassurance to the little guy, his thoughts echoing the same sentiments. It hadn't been long before both mother and child had drifted off.

And still he sat, as night turned to twilight, his own head heavy, letting the peacefulness seep into his soul.


End file.
